Dark Horse
by germanbrothers
Summary: Gilbert has died, but his brother Ludwig is able to bring him back to life...with false memories to make Gilbert love him. [Germancest, Sci-Fi AU - NOW COMPLETE]
1. Chapter 1

Based on a prompt on my blog that I got a little bit ago…

I was originally supposed to do it all in 3 sentences based on a writing exercise but I just had to write a full drabble for it! This is going to be just a touch longer than what I intended originally so I'm breaking it into two parts!

**Sci-fi AU: Ludwig bringing his dead brother back to life with implanted memories to make him love him.**

* * *

Gilbert was taken from him far too early. At 27, he was struck by a car and killed instantly.

Ludwig, his younger brother, was there to watch. Worse even, he was the one that caused it.

Leading up to the that fateful afternoon was a heated argument in the Beilschmidt household. Ludwig, 24 and with nothing to lose, decided to confess to his brother - the one who had raised him since infancy, supported him, and been there for him, his one constant companion - that his feelings ran more than just brotherly.

The problem was that Gilbert had always been affectionate. Always fond of hugs, kisses on the cheek and forehead, always up for some cuddles with Ludwig. The problem was also that Ludwig thought this clearly meant something more.

Absolutely sure of himself, he approached Gilbert and stated his feelings.

Unfortunately, Gilbert did not return the feelings.

"_What do you mean, you love me? Ludwig, that isn't normal."_

_"I don't care. You love me too, don't you? You're always holding my hand, telling me you love me, are proud of me. Doesn't that mean you love me?"_

_"What? No, Ludwig, that's insane- let go of me!"_

That's how it had started. Ludwig wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Gilbert loved him; he was sure of that. How could Gilbert not love him, when they were so close? He was just playing hard to get!

Extremely hard to get.

Ludwig had grabbed Gilbert's arm and tried to kiss him - to _prove_ to him that Gilbert would like it, that they were meant to be. Gilbert landed a square kick in Ludwig's stomach and used that opportunity to leave the house. Ludwig wasn't felled by that attack too easily and chased after Gilbert. He chased him quickly, shouting after the man, not letting up on him.

That was, until Gilbert ran straight into the street and was struck. Killed instantly.

Ludwig watched it happened. Watched as Gilbert's body hit the ground in a broken, bloody heap. And maybe a normal person would have felt shock, or grief, or devastation, but something in Ludwig, at that single moment, realized something.

This was great.

He collected the body before the paramedics arrived, ignoring the driver who had gotten out of his car to see what happened.

"Hey man! He looks pretty bad! Wait, I'll call the ambulance!"

"No need," Ludwig responded over his shoulder. He turned back and headed back into the house, looking down at his brother. Despite the fact that he had just lost his most precious thing in the world, he was grinning.

Gilbert was dead - but he didn't have to be. He didn't have to be dead, and he didn't have to be without Ludwig, either. People didn't know that Ludwig was a bit of an eccentric, a bit of an inventor. Not even Gilbert had known the extent of this. So as he walked back to their house, a plan was concocted in his head, and he would die himself before he gave up on it.

* * *

That was a year ago. Bringing Gilbert back to life was easy - it only took about a month. After he revived his brother's heart and neural activity in the brain, he put him in a coma until phase two of his plan was carried out. That was the hard part.

Considering that memories are stored in the Synaptic Cleft between two neurons in the brain, and there was technically _nothing there_ but chemical responses going back and forth, it was difficult for Ludwig to artificially implant 'memories' into that synapse.

It took him eleven months to break down exactly /what memories were/ and what kind of responses bring them about and creating a chemical reaction that created imagery in the brain, until he was finally able to, with a basement surgery that lasted over sixteen hours, implant "love" into his poor brother's brain, and bring him back.

Finally, it was time to bring Gilbert back. He had kept Gilbert in the basement in a special capsule that he invented himself that would preserve his body and keep his automatic bodily processes working, but it was time to bring him out of the artificial sleep that had been placed over it.

They had one bedroom now - Gilbert's room had been gutted and turned into a research office. Gilbert's things had been integrated seamlessly into Ludwig's room, who had upgraded his own bed to a King, since he was sure that there would be two people sleeping in the bedroom after Gilbert woke up.

He lay his brother on the mattress, on _his_ side of the bed, and then sat back, watching as the last effects of sleep wore off and his brother - his lover now - opened his eyes.

_(to be continued)_


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing that Gilbert was aware of was the smell off coffee. It was some kind of spiced coffee, but it was a good, comforting smell.

Then he was aware that he was in a soft, warm bed, covered up to his shoulders. The pillow was nice and the sheets were some kind of fleece.

He opened his eyes and was staring up at the ceiling. The distinct ceiling fan told him that it was his brother's room.

No. That was wrong.

He sat up, and immediately regretted it. His entire body felt stiff and sore and he felt like he had just been hit by a car. What in God's name had happened? He tried to remember what happened before but...he couldn't.

What day was it? What time?

"Gilbert." A voice filtered into his ears and he slowly looked over to see his brother, smiling at him kindly. "It's me, it's Ludwig."

"Ludwig," he repeated. Of course it was Ludwig. He sat in a plush chair next to the bed, but something about him looked...off. "What happened?" he whispered, looking around. Not just Ludwig, but everything seemed off. Everything seemed in right order - his chest of drawers next to his brother, his side of the bed that they shared, photographs on the wall and nightstand, but yet...

It was as if he was in an exact replica of the room. He was here, and everything looked the same, however it wasn't quite right.

Ludwig gently reached out and put his hand over Gilbert's, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You were hit by a car," he said quietly. "You...you died."

"I died?" Gilbert's attention snapped from the surreal room back to his brother.

"Yes. You died. But it's okay. I brought you back to life."

Gilbert fisted the sheets underneath him. "...But how - what - how long-"

Ludwig shushed him instead of reply. He shifted and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, slipping an arm around Gilbert's shoulders gently and pulling the man against him. Gilbert allowed it, still reeling from shock. He died? He was dead? Only for a few minutes, right? People's hearts stopped sometimes but if you could get it to beat again in enough time before brain activity stopped...

"We had an argument...but I got very upset and I told you to leave. So you ran away and...you got hit by a car. That was a year ago."

"A year-" Gilbert's heart almost stopped again just from that. A year? A year ago?! What...how...

"But I couldn't just...accept that you were gone." Ludwig looked away, sounding emotional. "I love you, Gilbert. And you love me too, of course, we were just so inseperable, so I just...couldn't even think of my life without you. So I worked so hard to bring you back. I worked for a year to bring you back. And I'm so happy that it worked." He pulled Gilbert against his chest and cradled him there.

Gilbert slowly, uncertainly, slipped his arms around Ludwig. This seemed...familiar. Kind of. He wasn't even letting himself process it. Gilbert had died, Ludwig had brought him back to life, a year later.

"How did you..." was all he could muster out.

"I always loved biology and anatomy," Ludwig explained, running his fingers through Ludwig's hair. "I admit I got obsessive. I had to do it. So I researched and experimented and...it took so long, but it was worth it."

He kept saying that. And he kept touching Gilbert. And it was nice, he supposed. But he just needed several minutes to think. "Ludwig, can you...get me water," he whispered.

His brother let go of him and left the room per his instructions.

Once he was alone, Gilbert looked around again, flexing out his limbs. This might explain why everything felt off. It was his brain's first time processing these things in a while, after all. That must be it.

Next to the bed was a framed picture of the two brothers, embracing one another and gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. At first glance he was puzzled by it. He didn't remember that. Maybe he had just forgotten...memory loss was probably something that just happened.

Him and his brother...the way they looked at each other was definitely not the way brothers should look at each other. Were they...?

Oh right, they were. Memories slowly flitted across his consciousness. They were lovers. Had been for several years. Slept together, went on dates together, loved each other...

Somehow, though, that didn't sit right. He loved his brother romantically? No way.

But he kept remembering that. Ludwig's arms around him, his lips against his own, his body weight on him, his-

He stopped right there and closed his eyes tightly, shaking his head to banish the thought. Not now. He was probably just in shock. That must be it. There was no way the brain could just continue to function normally after being dead for that long.

Ludwig came back shortly after with a smile on his face and a glass of water in his hand. He stopped in the doorway, taking a deep breath when him and Gilbert met eyes. 'It's so good to see you...sitting up, looking around, breathing! It's wonderful."

Gilbert just offered a strained smile and reached out for the glass. He took it carefully, drinking it quickly. He was incredibly thirsty, without even realizing it. "Ludwig," he said quietly once the glass was empty, placing it on the nightstand. "We're...um...together, right?"

"Yes." Ludwig said eagerly, sitting on the chair again, a bright smile on his face.

"How long?"

"Hmm...well. You were about eighteen. And I was fifteen, when we...got together."

Right. That fact stuck out to him. "I...approached you?" he said. He vaguely remembered that. Talking to Ludwig about how much he loved him and couldn't keep it in any longer.

"Yes. And I said I felt the same." Ludwig put his hand gently on Gilbert's shoulder. "It's okay. It will all come back to you in time. Spotty memory is...kind of typical of this. I'm pleasantly surprised that you remember as much as you do."

Gilbert looked at him, smiling back weakly. "Right...me too, Ludwig." He whispered the words, but this feeling of surrealism that nagged at the back of his mind would not go away. It was like watching the world through some kind of film or tint over his vision. Everything appeared fine, and there was no one thing that was jarringly out of place, however the world just did not seem the way it should be.

"I missed you so much, Gilbert. I love you." Ludwig's hand on his shoulder moved to his brother's chin, lifting it.

Gilbert's eyes met Ludwig's, and he didn't move even as Ludwig leaned in to kiss him gently. Gilbert kissed him back, hoping to squash the mental war raging in his head about how this was right, it wasn't right...had it always been like this?

"I love you, too."

* * *

_A/N: I thought it was going to just be a 2-parter but I want to keep the chapter pretty short, so this one will wrap up next chapter. Promise!_


	3. Chapter 3

Somehow, months went by. Getting used to being 'alive' again was a challenge, but fortunately he had his brother with him.

…Even when Gilbert didn't _want_ him there.

Ludwig seemed hyperfocused on monitoring every aspect of Gilbert's life. They had a small argument about Gilbert going back to work - Ludwig said that Gilbert didn't have to anymore since he got money for scientific research and it was more than enough to cover them. Gilbert said that he wanted to work, because it would give him something to do during the day.

"You can help me with my research," Ludwig had said, "or find a hobby."

"I want to do something that doesn't have to do with you," Gilbert had said, almost too bluntly, and the hurt look on Ludwig's face was enough to drop the conversation right then and there.

Gilbert was grateful to his brother for working hard, for reviving him, for supporting him. For loving him.

That was what Gilbert had trouble with. He struggled with it, almost daily. Ludwig had no problems, it seemed, going about daily live with Gilbert as his 'boyfriend'. They kissed, they went on dates, they made love. Ludwig showered him with affection and gifts - it was almost suffocating.

His love was sincere, Gilbert knew that. That was the part that killed him - Gilbert's love was not.

They went into the bedroom, and they removed their clothes, and they had sex, and something about it was wrong. It felt good, yes, and Ludwig was a very good lover - but it was still wrong. Ludwig was good in bed but he was also his younger brother and that feeling, that passion, did not exist in Gilbert.

Every night, long after Ludwig had fallen asleep, Gilbert would rise from the bed, put some clothes on, and go outside with a cigarette. He would sit on the porch for a long time, pondering what his life had become. Before he died (it was still difficult for him to rationalize that), he worked full time, he had friends, he had his brother and supported him. Now, a whole year later, he had nobody and nothing but his brother.

The moon was full and the night was quiet and warm. Gilbert watched the smoke from his cigarette swirl gently above his head and dissipate into the atmosphere. In this moment he was alone, and he was able to think rationally without having his brother over his shoulder, trying to police his thoughts.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. You weren't supposed to slowly resent the person you loved. Maybe it wasn't Ludwig he resented - maybe it was himself?

"It'll come back to you," Ludwig had said. "Just give it time. You'll find your feelings again."

Gilbert closed his eyes and took another long drag of the cigarette.

"Kiss me, and you'll remember." "Make love with me, and you'll remember." "I'll do it to you, and you'll remember." "Fuck me hard, and you'll remember."

He kept saying that, but it never came. It was as if Gilbert's romantic feelings for his brother died when he did - and Ludwig was unable to revive it. He thought about telling Ludwig - he did, frequently, in the beginning - but he knew what would happen. Ludwig would blow him off, suggest something else for them to do as partners, and Gilbert would continue to swallow his bile and do it.

It was disgusting, he thought to himself. But he was just as disgusting.

A week later, Ludwig had to leave for several days for an academic conference. Gilbert wanted to take this time to go out with his friends and drink, but Ludwig left him with no money and no car, so Gilbert was homebound.

"I'll be back in a few days. Try not to miss me too much," Ludwig had said.

"I won't," was the easiest thing in the world for Gilbert to say in return.

The first night he relished in being alone by sleeping late and not having to worry about groping hands under the covers or lips on his neck when he was trying to sleep. However, by the second day, Gilbert was bored out of his mind. He couldn't exactly go anywhere and he had nothing to do, so he thought about being a rebel and, against his brother's wishes (like it or not, Ludwig did not actually control his life), he called up his old friends, Francis and Antonio.

They were overjoyed to hear from him, and agreed to come over immediately - with booze, of course.

Seeing his two closest friends was such a relief. Before they came over, Gilbert made sure to hide any photographs of him and Ludwig and make it look like only one person slept in the master bedroom. He didn't want any questions asked that even he couldn't answer.

Within an hour, Francis and Antonio were at the door, already half-drunk, and it did not take long for Gilbert to join them. When he was with them, he finally felt joy for the first time since this whole ordeal had began. He was happy, he was carefree, and he felt like his old self again. They raced around the house like children, they played drinking games and threw on some porn just for good measure.

The next morning, Gilbert woke up, shirtless, on the couch. Francis was hugging his legs, still passed out, and Antonio was on the floor with a lampshade over his head. He looked around the room and noticed that it was completely trashed. Sometime in the night he vaguely recalled a drunken dance party and an impromptu joust, so it was understandable.

He wiggled out of Francis's grasp and made his way to the toilet, and on his way back, something caught his eye - a large, full-length mirror that hung on the wall in the living room had been knocked askew, and Gilbert could see something behind it.

The outline of a door was visible to him, and he made his way over. At this point, Francis and Antonio had both awakened and saw where Gilbert was headed.

"What's that?" Antonio asked, standing up and shedding his lampshade headgear.

"I think it's a door," Gilbert said quietly. "I don't remember this being here before." Why the hell was a mirror in front of a door? Granted, Gilbert didn't remember the mirror being there before, however lots of things had changed in the year that he was gone, so he had never questioned it - until now.

The three of them moved the mirror from the wall and slowly pushed open the door. Behind was a narrow staircase that led down into darkness.

"I was wondering yesterday where the door to your basement was," Francis said thoughtfully.

Gilbert turned and looked at him in bewilderment. "I didn't know we had a basement," he whispered.

"Of course you did - when we were kids we used to play Legos down there all the time, remember?"

No. Gilbert couldn't remember. He couldn't remember the basement and he couldn't for the life of him think why it would be concealed. He quickly descended the stairs and flicked on the nearby lightswitch, to reveal - some kind of forgotten scientific laboratory.

This wasn't too surprising in itself, since Ludwig was a science and did scientific research, but usually that research was either at home or at one of the university labs - no experiments were done at home, at least none that he was aware of.

The three of them moved slowly through the cramped space, looking at everything - books, computers, vials of strange liquids. There was a metal gurney in the middle of the room, with monitors all around.

"What is this?" Antonio whispered, tapping at one of the vials and watching the strange liquid bubble at the movement. "This is like some sci-fi shit right here."

"I…don't know." He was at a loss. Ludwig had never mentioned anything like this to him. Was this even Ludwig's? Was it someone else's research?

He approached the gurney and saw on a nearby table a leatherbound journal. Idly, he flipped it open and saw it full of Ludwig's quick, short handwriting. So it was all his brother's. He picked up the book and turned to the front page, seeing in large letters, "MEMORY IMPLANT NOTES"

Memory implant?

He flipped through more pages, reading what Ludwig had written down. A lot of it was scientific and things he didn't understand, but some passages stuck out - memories. His memories. Detailed prose of things that he remembered the two of them together. Laid out in front of him, in word-form, like some kind of fanfiction.

Suddenly it all made sense. Everything made perfect, undeniable sense. The shroud over his eyes was removed and the world was clear.

"…I think you two should leave," Gilbert said. "Please. Please leave immediately."

Without any further communication, Francis and Antonio quickly turned and ran up the stairs, sensing the urgency of Gilbert needing to be alone, in that room, with those notes.

He frantically tore through the laboratory. He found the originals of photographs that Ludwig had manipulated - photoshopping one or both of them to look like lovers. He found items that were used in aiding the semantics of these memories - vials of smells, pictures of places and foods and people. Everything was here. It all made perfect, perfect sense.

He was so wrapped up in the discovery of his misery that he didn't hear someone open the door and descend the stairs.

"Gilbert." Ludwig's voice sounded short and piercing compared to the relative silence.

Gilbert immediately slammed down the book he had been racing through and turned quickly to face his brother. His eyes skimmed the man for a moment, taking in his image. His face was passive, impartial. His clothes were a bit wrinkled. The bottom of his shoes were wet, and he was tracking blood. His fingers too were stained red.

"…I thought you weren't going to be home until the evening," Gilbert said, as calmly as he could. His heart, however, was racing in his chest.

"I took an earlier flight home," Ludwig explained. "Because I missed you."

This time, Gilbert had no problems being blunt. "I didn't."

Ludwig simply stood there, in the middle of the room, and tilted his head ever so slightly. "You shouldn't be down here, Gilbert."

"Why are you tracking blood?" His brother countered back.

The blonde pursed his lips and looked over his shoulder toward the staircase. "There was a mess upstairs. So I cleaned it up."

Gilbert swallowed a lump in his throat. He had to get out of this situation. Before then, however — he needed to speak his mind. It might be the last time he had the chance. "You lied to me. All of this…that's why I haven't loved you. We were never lovers before all of this. You…you fabricated everything. Everything about us! About me! It's all a lie!"

"You will love me," Ludwig snapped, his bloody fists clenched. "Give it time, and you'll-"

Gilbert slammed his hand down on the table near him. "No! I don't love you, Ludwig! I hate what we do, I hate it! You are my brother, and I will never want to do the…disgusting things that we do. All this time I have been convincing myself that it would come to me, but it never has, and now I know why. I. Don't. Love. You."

He moved to storm past Ludwig, but the man held an arm out to block him. "You're mine, Gilbert," he said in a poisonous tone. "You'll see that. You'll love me."

The elder brother managed to struggle past Ludwig and turned to run up the stairs. He had to escape. He had to get out of the house, out of the situation, away from Ludwig -

He froze when he saw, in the living room, the source of the blood. Antonio and Francis lay face down in a heap - Francis had been stabbed in the back with a knife, and it appeared that Antonio's neck had been snapped.

Despite the horror of the murder before him, he heard Ludwig moving rapidly up the stairs behind him.

Gilbert tried to escape, but he didn't even make it to the open front door before Ludwig grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back, placing a hand over Gilbert's mouth.

"You will love me," Gilbert heard the man whisper just before he felt Ludwig's hand cover all of his air passages. He struggled, trying to kick, beat, slap, and shove the man's hand away, but it was no use.

Spots danced in front of his eyes just before they overtook him completely.

* * *

Ludwig took a deep breath as he felt Gilbert finally stop struggling and turn limp in his arms. He then shuffled the body around to hold his brother in his arms, looking at his peaceful face. "I'm so sorry, Gilbert," he said quietly. "But I just can't lose you."

He turned and walked back to the basement, ignoring the other two bodies in the living room. He'd clean them up later.

The man wasn't worried. He did it once, he could do it again. And this time, he would do it better. Those memories were just a prototype - they were too synthetic. He'd perfect his formula this time.

Then, he was sure, his brother would never suspect anything wrong. If it still didn't work? Then he would just try again. And again. And he'd keep doing it, he resolved, until Gilbert loved him.


End file.
